


Little Comforts

by chronicAngel



Series: Leaves in the Summer [46]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Nightmares, POV Third Person, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, SasuSaku Month 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 21:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12262116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicAngel
Summary: They both have nightmares sometimes.SasuSaku Month 2017 Day 4: Lean On Me





	Little Comforts

They both have nightmares sometimes. He has them more often than she does, especially since sleep is a rare luxury for her since the baby, but there are some nights where she manages to doze off and the images of blood and gods scream at her from the depths of her mind. She'll wake up, screams and pants ripping their ways from her throat, and normally she'll sit up the rest of the night while her husband rests, oblivious, next to her.

Tonight is a much more quiet night. Though screams and cries of agony fill her head while she sleeps, she is silent when she wakes, eyes snapping open without so much as a gasp for air and her vision zeroes in on the dark spots on the ceiling. The inn they're staying in allows smoking in rooms, and she recognizes smoke stains.

She digs her nails into her palms for a minute, counting to ten in her head before pushing herself to sit up, a much more challenging task than it used to be thanks to the added weight right where her center of gravity would normally be. As a doctor, she knows rationally that panicking will get her nowhere. As a human being, she can't manually slow her heart rate or stop herself from looking around the room in anxiety to assure that they're still alone. Her fingers brush over the stump of Sasuke's left arm and she thinks she notices him shiver.

One of her hands rests on her stomach as she pushes herself to stand with the other one, and the wood of the floor creaks slightly as her weight shifts from the tatami onto her feet. They're swollen and they're aching from her pregnancy and constant travel, and she can see bruises forming from where her sandals dig into the skin (they're adjustable, but they aren't adjustable enough to account for every factor), but for some reason standing feels like a relief. Her back throbs with the dull reminder that she was standing and bending over people all day and only stopped a mere two hours ago, but the pain is a reminder that she's still alive. That all of this is still _real_ and not some fantasy that was cooked up for her by the Infinite Tsukuyomi, or some messed up concept of heaven. It's a small comfort, but it's enough that she latches onto it as she walks, surprisingly steady, toward the shoji that leads to the balcony; Sasuke prefers rooms on the first floor when they stay in inns, but they were all taken this time, and she enjoys it.

She shivers when the cold air hits her skin, but closes her eyes and breathes it in anyway because she knows that she needs this. Her hands rest on her stomach and though she doesn't feel the little flutters and kicks under her skin that she normally does, she can still feel the growing sense of life inside of her and it makes a smile crack her face despite how on edge she is. When she opens her eyes again, she looks over her shoulder to see how her husband is doing, and is pleased to note that she didn't wake him up by getting up, though she suspects that the cold left behind by her absence will assure that doesn't last long. Though she always feels chilly these days, Sasuke assures her that she's warm when she clings to him and argues that he's like a furnace.

The light of the stars reflects off of the snow on top of the mountains in the distance, and she lets the chilly air and the refreshing scene slowly drag her back into the real world, the present world, remind her that the war and everything that happened is over.

It's hard to convince herself of that as she feels an arm wrap firmly around her stomach, hand splaying out across her abdomen, and she can't help but whip around and send a fist flying into the face of her unsuspecting husband. Of course, the moment she snaps back into what's going on, her eyes go wide and her hand goes flying to her mouth to stifle her gasp of surprise while her husband goes flying back into the wall.

She privately thinks that they're lucky his back crashing into the wall didn't damage it, even as she rushes to his side to make sure he's alright (well, rushes as best she can when walking too fast makes her have to pee). He waves his hand at her as if trying to dismiss her, but doesn't fight as she rests a hand on the cheek that she didn't just punch and tilts his head so she can better see his face. His cheek is already swollen and bruising, and she winces, immediately going to heal the damage.

His cheekbone, previously fractured, fixes itself easily as he hisses under his breath, and the swelling goes down after a couple more seconds, but the bruises take a full minute of concentration and it makes her worry what would have happened if she'd aimed for a more vital spot.

"Are you okay?"

For some reason, she expected the words to come from her own mouth, so when she hears him ask it, she's just as startled as she was when he first embraced her, and she has to wait a minute for her brain to reboot. She doesn't bother to fake a smile or say that she's fine, because she knows better than that by now and he would be able to tell that she was lying, so she just lets out a scared, harsh whisper. "No..." It's so short, so simple, but it's hard to say and she feels her heart tug and chest tighten with the effort as though she isn't letting something go, but wrapping herself up even tighter in a lie.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His voice is as gentle and comforting as she suspects he can make it, and she appreciates the effort, but hearing a soft tone come from her husband is more disconcerting than it is comforting so rather than focus too much on the question, she just takes his hand and squeezes.

After a second, she shakes her head a bit. "No." This is more firm, but she doesn't feel any less broken afterward, and he simply nods his understanding. He is not one for physical affection, but she notices the way that he sits up and rests his head on hers.

It's more intimate than a hug or a kiss would be.

She leans back against his chest, and he shifts to wrap his arm around her again, careful this time. His hand settles over the usual spot where their child kicks, but it seems he is sleeping at the moment. She doesn't actually know it's a boy, but Sasuke seems certain. She almost hopes they have a daughter to spite him.

They sit like that for nearly two hours, her entire body relaxing back against him, and eventually she falls asleep like that. It's not often that she falls asleep in her husband's embrace, either because their hours are so drastically different that they only wake up like that, or, most nights, because she doesn't get to sleep at all. But tonight, she falls asleep with her husband's arm wrapped around her comfortingly, and this time she doesn't dream of Kaguya or the war.


End file.
